Try a Mine, Try an Orchard
by mandaree1
Summary: Limestone Pie and Big Mac find themselves swapping friendly letters about the supposed wonders of being the only dedicated farmers in the family while simultaneously trying to struggle through change.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own My Little Pony; Friendship is Magic!**

 **Title: Try a Mine, Try a Tree**

 **Summary: Limestone Pie and Big Mac find themselves swapping friendly letters about the wonders of being the only dedicated farmers in the family while simultaneously trying to struggle through change.**

 **...**

In her dream, Limestone is a filly again, staring dejectedly out the window of her parent's cabin. Rain slathers the land mercilessly, making tiny rivers and streams. The flat environment doesn't support the weather well, leading to run-off that even this young she knows will hinder production.

She glances at her flank sourly. She'd hoped she'd earn her cutie mark that morning, as she was finally old enough to accompany her father and mother into the mines, but they wouldn't risk her safety like that.

Lightening flashes across the darkened sky, and that's when she knows it's too dangerous to even attempt any mining that day. On the flat landscape, ponies tended to be on the taller side, only crested by Holder's Boulder and that one twisty tree that's so dead it can't even be used as effective firewood. The cabin is the only safe place on a day like today.

She growled, restlessness picking at her. Limestone preferred to keep on the move. It felt like everything in their home was easily breakable, and the thought of provoking the ire of her father plucked at her heartstrings. She never wanted Pa to feel disappointed in her.

Something pulls on her tail with a whimper. Limestone quietly moved away from the window, yellow-green eyes locking on the pitiful form of her sister.

Marble was her size, and around the same color of grey, but the way she held herself fooled the eye into making her seem tiny. Her mane was long enough she practically used it as a cape, legs a jumbled mess of fear and insecurity.

"Oh, alright." Limestone sighed, gently nudging her shoulder with her head. "Let's go back upstairs."

Marble whimpered again and nodded, keeping hesitant pace beside her. Limestone didn't blame her for being leery of the storm, although it was odd that she went to her rather than Ma and Pa every time it started to thunder. Maybe she just wasn't brave enough.

There's a cut in the narrative, and now they're curled up under the blankets. Judging by the flower drawings on the wall, it's Marble's room. Limestone's was bare, save for that hole she once made after slamming a hoof too hard against the wall.

That wasn't to mean Limestone didn't have interests, or even a wish to make the room her own. Simply that she was too busy for it. The rock farm didn't run itself, after all, and she made sure to stretch her little body as far as it could go to help keep it running.

No one asked her to, but they also kinda did, you know? Ma and Pa wouldn't be around for forever, and none of her sisters seemed interested in taking over. She was caught in a perpetual rut.

(Maud likes rocks. She doesn't like math. Good luck getting her to balance funds.)

A filly with no mark, Limestone already knew her future, and had begun to make an effort to accept it. The Pie family had been mining rocks for decades. She's next in line. Get over it.

Of course, those thoughts aren't on Limestone's mind that night. More of a memory than a dream, the filly irritably stares at the wall, sister firmly planted against her side. A flit of lightening, a whine. Marble's face is buried in her hooves.

The door quietly squeaks open. Maud steadily trots inside, followed by Pinkamena. They both look like their normal selves, for that age; Maud is solid and a little blank, Pinkamena is sad and reluctantly slinks behind the crowd.

 _You're Pinkie Pie_ , she wants to yell, _this isn't you. You're gonna poof up and practically sprint out the door one day. Don't look so unhappy._

"I hope Boulder will be alright." Maud says, sliding up on Limestone's other side. "I left him out last night for some fresh air."

"He'll be _fine_." She brushed it off. "It'll be like getting a long drink of water."

"Boulder doesn't get thirsty. He's a rock."

"Then what's the big deal?"

"I put him a crevice. He should be alright, so long as he doesn't wash away."

"Mmhm." Marble puts in.

"Thanks. That makes me feel a bit better."

Pinkamena pulled herself up last, sprawling across their three backs with a bored sigh. They all let out a little "ouf", but even then their sister was weird for a Pie, so they expect and allow it.

Limestone puts her head on her hooves and pulls closer, feeling incredibly squished. "I'm taking a nap."

Pinkamena mumbled into Marble's fur.

"You can stay up there if you want." Maud assures her. "We won't be moving any time soon."

* * *

Limestone blearily blinks open her yellow-green eyes, feeling like she was being pulled out of a fog. She sat up, letting her blankets drag behind her as she crawled off the mattress. The quiet splash of raindrops outside revealed the source of her nostalgia.

Her dreams had always been vivid, but also always bland. There was nothing creative about them- just little snatches of memories. It really didn't shock her that she dreamed about rain during the rain.

Limestone still lived on the Pie property, with her own little two-story she shared with Marble. It was quiet, quaint, and a little less breakable than the family home. Honestly, she didn't quite know why her sister hadn't moved out by now. That wasn't to say she didn't enjoy her presence, merely that the mare had nothing keeping her here. If it were a matter of missing family by her side, Pinkie would take her in a heartbeat. She had nothing to gain or lose by mumbling as she edged about the farm.

She had the sneaking suspicion the mare was trying to take care of her. The notion made her stomp down the stairs harder than normal. The farm needed care. Ma and Pa needed care. _She_ didn't need care.

It was for the best that Marble wasn't in the kitchen when Limestone shoved her nose in. She might've snarled otherwise. The earth pony got to work, making herself a meal out of leftover salad and muffins. She eyed the storm outside; it was just beginning, and looked to peter out towards noon.

Cursing under her breath, she hopped up the stairs again to call through the door. "Sis?"

Quiet murmuring.

"I gotta go grab the equipment real quick. I left the picks out."

More murmuring, this time more panicked.

"Urgh." She snapped. "They'll rust if I don't take care of 'em, Marble. You know that. It'll just take a second. There's veggies in the fridge."

Limestone grimaced as she opened and closed the door behind her. The rock farm is a flat place, so it was a straight shot, but puddles and rivers of water made it treacherous. Mudslides weren't uncommon, and sometimes the rocks would roll on the slippery surface. Still, the wet on the ground looked fresh, and she was only beaten in speed and agility by Maud. Plucking up her courage, she set a brisk pace, mane sticking to her eyes as her hooves thudded across the way.

Water was pouring into the entrance of the mines, and Limestone shuddered at the thought of going down there at a time like this. She grabbed the two picks with some difficulty, the taste of dirt on her tongue, then she kept right on moving, heading for Ma and Pa's place. it was the closest, and the only one with a shed nearby.

Limestone felt guilty as she shut the shed door, sparing the house a glance. It was okay to wait until the rain stopped to drop by, right? She'd hate to track her muddy hooves on the floor. Ma and Pa had enough to deal with as is.

She headed back, dirt squishing under her hooves. She could see home from a distance, as well as a flash of gray standing on the porch, front door ajar. She squinted, feeling shock pulse through her. What was Marble _doing_? She _hated_ rain.

But the mare pushed into the drizzle with only a mildly ear-ripping cry, coming up beside her with a concerned squawk. Bemused, Limestone allowed herself to be led inside, kicking the door shut. It left a streak of mud. "Whoops. Sorry."

"Mmhm." Marble agreed, but was pushing her towards the bathroom. Limestone didn't know she could be so forceful.

"Oh, calm down. You make it sound like I'm dying." She forcefully stood her ground, ears tilting back. "We've done worse work in the middle of a storm."

Marble shoved her. Limestone complained but went into the bathroom nonetheless. She grumpily drew herself some water and slipped into the tub.

Deep down, Limestone felt embarrassed. She'd forgotten the tools in the field. Rather, she'd been too lazy to pick them up. She hadn't even said good morning to her parents, and now Marble felt the need to chaperone her. _Marble_. The mare who could barely speak in grunts and affirming noises due to her shyness. Was she slipping, or was the added pressure starting to take its toll on her?

No. She shook that thought- and the clinging water- away. Stress was no excuse for making simple mistakes.

A quick roll on the towels rendered her damp but no longer soaked, and Limestone slunk back up to her room. She was in no mood for company, especially with her coat soggy.

She shut the door with a sigh. Just as when she was a filly, the room was bare. Only a bed, a desk, and a group of cabinets for band-aids and winter gear should the cold get bad enough. The upstairs window is covered by drapes, but there's enough light to see.

She threw her mane towel onto the bed, snatching a glance at her desk. An unopened letter lay front and center.

"Ponyfeathers." She growled, feeling even worse. She'd collected the mail a few days ago, finding the note waiting for Marble inside. They'd been so busy she figured she'd bring it up over dinner, and it had totally slipped her mind.

Stupid Apple family. As if she didn't have enough to do as is.

Still. It was only polite she apologize, or at least explain the reason it was late. Marble would be heartbroken if her carelessness got her yelled at. It also gave her something to do while she dried.

Limestone sat down, grabbed a quill in her teeth, and began the long, slow process that was writing. There should be a way to bewitch quills so they could talk out what they wanted to write- and maybe there was, but she didn't get out enough to know.

 _Late 'cause I forgot. Work got in the way. You know how it is._

 _-Lime._

 **Author's Note: Basically I thought these two could be awesome farmer bros. Also- it's oddly refreshing to write a character like Limestone. My only multi-chapter MLP story is far more restrained, as the characters one front and center, whereas Limestone is more open and slapdash. It's nice.**

 **-Mandaree1**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own My Little Pony; Friendship is Magic!**

 **Title: Try a Mine, Try an Orchard**

 **Summary: Limestone Pie and Big Mac find themselves swapping friendly letters about the supposed wonders of being the only dedicated farmers in the family while simultaneously trying to struggle through change.**

 **...**

 **nightmare killer \- thank you for the kind review!**

 **...**

Big Mac was never the type to dream. The few he could recall were scrambled and tiring, and personally he found he didn't like them very much. It was nice to lay his head down after a long day's work and slip into a black cloud for a few hours, only to rise when he heard Granny Smith shuffling about in bed.

Running a large hoof over his mane, he meandered over to put on his yoke before taking a quick look in the mirror he kept above his dresser. Yup. Same ol' Big Mac.

His eyes drifted down to the opened letter he'd left lying there, and his face shifted into a thoughtful frown. News from Marble was always a treat, and he was glad to know she enjoyed being pen pals, but he wasn't quite sure how to handle the attachment he'd gotten from her cantankerous sibling, Limestone.

He rubbed his chin on a soft bit of fur on his fetlock. It was hard to say. He didn't know Limestone very well outside the odd holiday trip. She seemed decent enough; cranky but hardworking, loyal to her family. He recognized the weary resolve of a farmer in the way her jaw ticked at anyone who tried to do a job for her. Would a response soothe or enrage her pride?

"Big Mac!" Granny Smith hollered, and he went, leaving the decision for later.

The old mare's room was just a few steps down the hall, and the floor creaked as he moved. It was homey rather than creepy; he remembered trying to sneak out more than once as a colt, skipping and jumping like a drunken ninja. He chuckled.

Big Mac stopped in front of her new door and lifted a hoof, politely knocking. He knew with a certain level of sadness that she hadn't moved since he called, but better to be a gentlestallion than to just bust in.

"'Mon in, Big Mac. I think I'm feelin' a bit better today."

He entered. Granny Smith's room is old-fashioned, with hoof-knit blankets and hoof-built furniture. The scent of old things hits his nose like a shower of heat. Likewise, Granny Smith is the image of the elderly as she sits up in bed, back hooves tucked under her and blanket draped across her shoulders. The twinkle in her eye made him feel hopeful and disheartened at once.

"Mornin', big fella." She takes the offered hoof and carefully lowers herself to the floor, limbs shaking. "You up to helpin' yer old Granny down the steps?"

"Eeyup."

Big Mac practically hauls her onto his back to get down the stairs; not because she needs him to, but because the stairwell is too narrow for a big stallion and an old mare to walk down side-by-side. From there she pulls away, hobbling into the kitchen with a stiff upper lip. "Pull up a seat. I'm makin' pancakes."

"Eeyup."

Again, Limestone came to mind, if only as a distraction from his grandmother's slowly deteriorating state. When did a pony harvest rocks, anyhow? Do they have bad seasons? Better yet, do they get old? The whole idea of farming for inanimate, non-food related objects baffled him.

"I smell pancakes." Applejack trots into the room as cool as a cucumber, like nothing's bothering her. Like they all can't see the new scar on her back leg. "Anypony seen Apple Bloom?"

"Not me. Mac?"

"Nope."

"Weird'a her to miss breakfast." She mused, slipping into the chair beside him. "I don't think any of her lil' club is awake yet."

"Oh, I'm sure Scootaloo is up and around by now." Granny Smith titters, daintily setting the spatula down to pour more batter and speak a few words. "That mare always jus' seems to be around. S'like she lives in the orchards or somethin'."

"Other club, Granny. The lil' battalion of Cutie Mark searchers."

"Those young'uns? Celestia's mane, I hope not. They cause 'nough trouble as is; I'd hate fer them to be up from the crack'a dawn 'till Princess Luna greets us doin' as much. Ya'll goin' to look fer her, Big Mac?"

Halfway out the door, Big Mac looked back, mildly surprised. He hasn't expected them to notice. "Eeyup."

It's a fine day for farming. It's not too warm to make the orchards feel like an oven, and it's not so cold that it'll hurt the produce. It'd rained the night before but the dirt is solid and cool under his hooves.

Ears pricked, Big Mac catches sounds coming from the barn and follows them. He needs to change the hay later. He puts that on his mental to-do list.

He spots Apple Bloom struggling under the weight of his spare yoke, growling and complaining. She'd kick it off only to pounce on it again, engaged in a one-sided wrestling match she ironically seemed to be losing.

"Apple Bloom?"

She let out a yelp, hooves and teeth relenting with surprise. In a quick turn of events, the yoke snapped back, launching her into a pile of old hay. Big Mac watches the scene as his youngest sister pushed her head out with a disgruntled yell, spitting out hay as she went.

"Uh-hum." He coughed into a hoof.

"Oh. Uh, sorry, Big Mac." She pulled herself free of the pile, a sheepish grin on her face. "Time fer breakfast already?"

"Eeyup."

"I just wanted to try it, y'know?" She flicked her eyes to the yoke around his neck. "You never know if I'll need yoke-carryin' skills to help ponies."

"Eeyup."

"Yeah, I know. That was silly-soundin', even fer me. Honestly, I really just want bulky shoulders like yer's. It'd be a lot of help."

Big Mac nodded and retrieved the champion of barn wrestling, setting it back on its' old hooks while hiding a smile.

"You don't happen to have anything my size, do ya?"

"Hmm..." He paused, thinking. "Eeyup."

"You do?" She perked up, giving a single bounce on her hooves before falling still.

His old yoke from when he was a colt should do. Big Mac gave another, more definitive 'eeyup' before setting a brisk pace to the house. He held the door open for her, then stepped inside himself.

" _There_ ya are, munchkin." Granny Smith greeted as she entered the kitchen. She set a plate of pancakes at the table across from Applejack. The seat next to her was filled with a plate as well. "Git some of these in ya 'fore we get workin'."

"Thank you, Granny!" She replied obediently, taking the first bite with expectant glee. Her eyes snapped open from what they'd hoped was a blissful beginning to the day. "Bit dry, dontcha think?"

"Oh, hush. I'm gettin' old, and I don't got the reflexes I used ta'. Big Mac, where ya goin'?"

"He's getting me a yoke to wear!" Apple Bloom cheered.

"Is he, now? Yer old 'un, Big Mac?"

"Eeyup."

"Didn't know ya still had the thing."

"Eeyup."

He cheerfully plunked up the stairs. The hunk of wood hadn't gotten use in seasons. Sure, the chances it'd stick were slim, but a few days would be a decent send-off. He grabbed it from the closet, then looked at the letter again. It was now or never, or his own response to Marble would be late.

Carefully placing the equipment on his simple blue blanket, he tromped over and grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill.

 _Eeyup. I know how it is, definitely. Though I don't really know how rocks farm. I suspect apples might be a bit different in a couple regards. How can you tell a good rock from a bad one?_

 _Can't spend too long writing. Granny's health hasn't been the best lately, and I'm her main stallion. I know it's just aging, but I worry about her. Tell Maud hi, if'n you don't mind._

 _-Mac._

"Bic Mac! You grabbin' a yoke or takin' a nap up there?"

Big Mac tucked the envelope under his chin and yoke on his arm, smiling just a little. "Eeyup!"

 **Author's Note: Proud big bro intensifies. Big Mac's a lot of fun to write too, although I think I like Limestone a tiny bit more. They're all a couple years older, I think? I dunno.**

 **-Mandaree1**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own My Little Pony; Friendship is Magic!**

 **Title: Try a Mine, Try an Orchard**

 **Summary: Limestone Pie and Big Mac find themselves swapping friendly letters about the supposed wonders of being the only dedicated farmers in the family while simultaneously trying to struggle through change.**

 **...**

The Pie family farm has been around for generations, stretching back to the finding of Holder's Boulder and then some. That's not to say ponies in the family haven't gone separate ways before- Limestone thought her sisters were a decent enough example of that- but their blood is stone, and their pelts are typically proof of that. It's very rare when a pony as colorful as her sister is born into the line.

Likewise, the Pies have only housed and staffed _other_ Pies. It was simply easier to let family take care of the farm. Less expensive as well.

Limestone nudged a decently-sized chunk of charcoal up the rise that led to the living quarters of the land. It would be some time yet before the winds grew cold, but the sooner they were prepared, the sooner she could turn to other pursuits. The early morning rays were just beginning to stretch over the horizon- she'd been having trouble sleeping, and instead took to etching at the walls of the hollow, smoothing them out crumble by crumble. She would have to sweep up the bigger chunks later, then give her coat a good wash, judging by the cloud of dust that wafted up as she stomped her hoof.

Limestone knows it's only a matter of time before she's the only Pie left on the farm. Pinkie hightailed it as soon as she could get her springy butt out the door. Maud loves rocks, but she wants to see more than just the vague assortment they have lying around. She's taking college courses already. Marble won't be ready for some time yet, but Limestone is fairly certain she has dreams of going _somewhere_.

Ma and Pa... well, they're only a waiting game.

"Mmhm!"

Limestone forced her mind to the present as the clip-clop of Marble's hooves reached her ears. The gray mare was practically prancing, a letter clamped protectively in her teeth and a saddle bag on her side.

"Bit early for that, don't you think?" Limestone asked. "Letter from Mac?"

"Mmhm!" Marble agreed, craning her neck out. When Limestone didn't take it, she poked her in the side and waved the letter frantically.

"Alright, alright! Sheesh." Limestone gently leaned in to rip the envelope, retrieving the letter and unfolding it with a jerk of the head. Marble snatched it away, holding it out for her to read. "Never had somepony get mad at me for _not_ reading their mail."

She awkwardly bent her head and read, yellow-green eyes trailing left to right to back again. Limestone is a slow reader, so she has a crick in her neck when she straightens. "Okay? Cool, I guess."

Marble nudged her again, more insistently this time.

"You want me to write him back?"

Marble nodded.

"Ugh. Why? I already apologized."

Almost immediately, the mare's joy soured, transforming into an unhappy scowl. She thumped a hoof on the ground.

"What? Marble, I've got a farm to run. I don't have time for _pen pals_." Limestone huffed at her sister as she passed, rolling her eyes. "I'm going over to Ma and Pa's for breakfast. Are you coming or what?"

Maud is waiting for them on the porch, waving. Bolder, perched on her hoof, is excited to see them, or so she says. Marble gives them both the silent treatment, whisking her tail in a brisk hello as she disappeared inside.

"What did you do?" Maud inquired.

"I didn't write her pen pal back."

"Big Mac?"

"Yeah. That one."

"Alright. I made breakfast."

"I'll help carry it out."

Maud leads her into the kitchen, which is far too impersonal and clean for Limestone's tastes, pointing her to bowls of salad and orange slices. Limestone clamped one in her teeth and carefully trotted it into the living room. The living room is as bare as ever, with only two couches and a coffee table. As a filly, Limestone remembered there being delicate plants and pots sitting on the glass surface, but now it lay empty. Nothing plant-like ever grows well on the Pie family farm.

Igneous sat comfortably on one of the couches, his hat set aside, as was proper. Wrinkles dotted the skin around his eyes. Cloudy Quartz reclined beside him; the mare looked far stronger than her husband, but Maud has informed her of their mother's constant battle with an aching spine. On the other couch sat Marble, who was frantically humming out the story of Limestone's refusal. Limestone found she _really_ didn't like her heated tone.

"Good morrow, Limestone." Igneous greeted. He sounded like he was in a pleasant enough mood.

Limestone set his bowl down on the table. The siblings themselves weren't here for food; rather, they were here to make sure their parents ate. "Morning, Pa," she pressed a dry kiss to her mother's cheek. "Morning, Ma." She went around the other couch, punched her sister's shoulder, and primly took a seat. "Nark."

"Your sister is very passionate, dear," Cloudy Quartz told Limestone. "When it suits her, anyway."

"Mmhm!" Marble agreed.

"She's got a point." Maud added.

"Thanks for the input." Limestone growled.

"Don't be sarcastic, Limestone."

"Yes, ma'am."

"How is business?" Pa asked. Limestone cleared her throat and sat back, feeling a bit like she'd stepped into a test.

"Busy. Lots of ponies are reserving coal and crystal for the winter season. The lower mines are still flooded from the rain, and I'm pretty sure we should start preparing for possible mudslides." Limestone hesitated. "I think we should consider hiring workers."

There's a stunned silence from Marble. Limestone can see why having a bunch of strangers working on the property might set the shy mare on edge.

"Boulder says they'd need training," Maud says.

"And there's nopony better suited for the job than a Pie." Limestone stomped a hoof to make herself look more firm.

"Don't grind coal dust into the fabric."

"Sorry, Ma. I'll clean that up."

"No need. It gives me a reason to leave the comforts of my cushions."

"Yes, ma'am. Pa, what do you think?"

Igneous had taken a leaf from the salad into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. "'Tis not my farm anymore. I do not call the shots."

"You own the place."

"But I do not _run_ the farm. I have placed that responsibility solely on you."

"Pa, I'm not asking you as an owner," Limestone reached out to touch his hoof, swallowing a wave of embarrassment. She sounded so unsure of herself. This whole thing was stupid. "I'm asking as a daughter who wants advice from her dad."

Igneous examined her a long moment. He stiffly bent down from the couch to give her a hug, then pulled away. "I think it is too soon to tell for certain."

"Mmhm!" Marble agreed, with a vehement nod.

"We could always ask for help from our extended family." Cloudy Quartz mused, rubbing at her chin. "They're farmers."

" _Apple_ farmers." Limestone rolled her eyes, ear twitching dismissively. "They're probably too busy, and, even if they weren't, they don't know how to handle rocks. You saw them with their Hearth's Warming dolls."

"You _did_ say that perchance there are no teachers quite like Pies, in the nature of rock farming."

She opened her mouth, then closed it. "I did say that, didn't I?"

"You did," she agreed.

"We could inquire of their services at our next Hearth's Warming celebration." Igneous decided. "Should that not work, we will look into hiring helping hooves."

Limestone gave a quiet sigh of relief. "Fine. We'll work on it."

Marble hopped off her seat on the couch to energetically nudge Limestone's side, flapping the letter in her jaws hopefully.

"Ugh. I _told_ you, sis; I'm _not_ becoming his pen pal."

"Why not?" Maud asked. One of her eyebrows had risen.

"He sent me a _polite_ letter to make things less awkward. He doesn't _really_ want an answer." She stated. "And, even if he did, I'm too busy for something like that."

"With what?"

"With the _farm_ , Ma. I'm too busy with the _farm_."

Her father reached out to place a hoof on her head. "Taking care of the farm is important; as is keeping friends. Company is healthy for the soul."

"Yes, sir."

Cloudy Quartz took one of Limestone's hooves into her own. They all ignored how awkward their positions were. "You've been very easily upset lately, darling. More so than usual. Thy mind is clouded with stress, and it has flooded your heart. You need an ocean to pour out into."

"Mmhm!"

"Shut up, Marble."

"Stop being so mean to your sister."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Give it a try, Limestone. For us." Her mother's eyes were a little moist, but not really. Just tired. "We worry about you."

Limestone felt her shoulders sink.

* * *

 _Big Mac-_

 _Rocks are good if they're solid. If they're all crumbled and soft they break easily, which is the exact opposite of what most of our buyers want. We don't have a specific season, per say, but things pick up in the summer, when most ponies are building new pathways and stone fences and other pieces._

 _Gonna be blunt with you, this is my parents' idea- there's no need to answer. Ma and Pa think I might be lonely. Which I'm not. I'm a farmer- we're a hardy group of ponies._

 _Told Maud hi. Do me a favor and tell Pinkie Pie hi for me in return. She'll know this is coming._

 _I know how it is with old folks. My parents are retired as of this year, though Pa still owns the property. Rock farming is hard on a ponies' body, and the doctor says I should be ready for rapid destruction. Don't tell anypony else that._ _Once Ma and Pa are gone, I'm prepared to take over the house. Maud'll be out of here in a heartbeat, and I doubt Marble will stay long. Call it a Limestone Sense._

 _See you at Hearth's Warming. Like, six moons from now? Whatever. Ink is already drying, can't take it back._

 _-Lime._

 **Author's Note: Been a while, huh? I haven't forgotten this story- I love my Farmer Bros too much for that. Limestone's got pretty much everything on her fluffy little shoulders and it's wiggin' her out.**

 **-Mandaree1**


End file.
